On Dreaming (#24)

The Desperate Man by Gustave Courbets

You would think after last week's announcement, I would have been motivated, and produced something profound. That is not how I operate. Not even after all these year. Also, change takes time. Incremental steps. Yet, I need to write something. Since my last dream post was back in August, tonight I will share a few from the last three months of last year.

11/11/2024

It was a high school classroom filled with students, and I was one of them, except as an adult. The subject was math. Two rows of desks ran parallel to the chalkboard. I sat in the middle of the front row. A short, older woman, stood at the front. She was a substitute teacher.

As she wrote the math problems on the board, her handwriting made it difficult to transcribe the work. Also, it became clear that the problems were beyond our skill level. Finally, she gave us little time to copy what she had written, before she went ahead and erased it. The students and I began to complain. The substitute turned to us, apologized, and wrote a little more clearly. However, the complexity of the problems increased. And she moved faster, erasing much sooner than before. 

The whole time my anxiety and frustration grew. Finally, I realized my notebook had gone missing. First, I began searching inside and around my desk. No luck. Then up and down the rows. Nothing. When I returned to my desk, the old problems were gone, and new ones were up. That made me furious.

That's when I noticed my backpack had disappeared. Now, I was livid, but also humiliated. Looking around at the other students, I discovered on of them snickering. I got up and approached him. Afraid of being wrong, I hesitated to accuse him outright. Instead I asked him if he had seen anything. He laughed. I lost my mind, and called him out in front of everyone. Yet, a part of me remained anxious that I was wrong.

Finally, he caved, admitted he had my bag, and pointed to a tall bookcase off in the corner that had been moved away from the wall. It was clear something was over there. Yet, I was reluctant to turn my back on him, afraid he might do something to me. Eventually I found the will to go over and look. There near the bookcase, on the floor, was an opening, big enough for a person to squeeze into. It was dark. I cautiously peered inside, refusing to commit fully, in case the boy tried to push me. I saw nothing. That is when I told the boy to go retrieve it. He resisted. I was persistent, and persuaded him somehow. As he climbed into the hole, the dream faded, I woke up. 

10/22/2024

Between the sky and the landscape, it was clear the Apocalypse had arrived. There in the hellscape stood a house intact. It had been ground zero. And I was running from it, across a burning, smoke choked desolation. As I fled, a huge scaley creature burst forth from the building and soared high into the sky. 

Then the dream reset, and I found myself inside the house. The world was whole. But, my mind warned me that I had very little time. My first thought was to run out of the house, as fast and as far as possible. But quickly I convinced myself it was futile. Soon my mind waffled between two choices. I could just sit there, knowing the house would explode, and embrace a quick death. Or, I could hide somewhere in the house, just outside the creature's path, and somehow survive. Eventually, I found myself in a small closet, burying myself beneath layers of blankets. A very brightly lit closet. Next to me was one of my daughters, frightened. I tried to comfort her. Throughout all of this, my mind reminded me that time ticked ever closer to the final moment. There, on the floor of small closet, child in my arms, as the seconds passed, I began to embrace the impending destruction, imagining myself, in my dream, of burning debris raining down upon us.

And, at the last moment before the creature arrived, I lost my nerve, and contemplated making a run for it. The dream faded to black before I could discover my final decision.

09/20/2024

Somewhere in a city stood a run-down building, like an abandoned warehouse. Inside was a main area set up like a small theater with a stage a chairs. A performance was running. I was directing it while also acting in it. The audience was small, and appeared to be enjoying it. Then it was over, and I felt it had been well received. The crew and I started breaking down and cleaning up everything. People of all ages were helping us. It felt good. But not for long. Outside, nighttime was falling, and everyone needed to go home before it got too dark--we were located in an unsafe part of the city. Worse, the more we cleared stuff out, the more stuff seemed to appear. My anxiety rose as I felt rushed and overwhelmed. 

Yet, people kept offering to stay and help. As I tied up a bag of garbage, a young boy came up to me and offered to take it outside to the dumpster. However, I was reluctant. It seemed to dangerous out there. I told him not to worry, and that I would take care of it myself. But things still needed to get done.

Suddenly, my sister appeared and offered to take everyone out for donuts. Then, she turned around, and left the building. People began to follow her. Suddenly, I feared to be left alone with this mess. So, I stepped outside after them, asking some of them to stay. At one point, I shouted to my sister, who was a block or two away by now, asked her to just bring the donuts back. She didn't hear me.

There I stood, halfway out the door, watching the last of my helpers disappear into the shadows of the city's dimly lit streets. The night began to push me back inside, as did a fear that if I let the door close behind me, I would never be able to enter again. And that's when the young boy from before, who offered to take the garbage to the dumpster appeared next to me. He promised to remain behind and help me. But I could not accept. There was no way to drive him home afterwards. Yet, the crowds had all but disappeared. The rearguard was fading quickly. Sending him after them seemed dangerous.

I told the young boy to follow them with all speed, and offered to wait there until he reached them. He smiled and ran after few figure lingering in the distance. As I watched, the door began closing. The dream was making it clear that I had to choose. See him to safety, but be locked outside forever, or turn away, and reenter the building, leaving the young boy to his fate.

I ran back inside.

The place had grown darker. Strewn about the floor were bundles. At first they were unrecognizable. But, as my eyes adjusted to the dying light, they took shape. Homeless people. Apparently, at night, this place becomes a shelter. The bodies twisted and turned, moaned and grunted, made it clear I was not welcomed there anymore. I fled to the corner where we had been staging the cleanup, hoping it had been cleared out. For the most part, it was empty, save for a few items. And a woman, the shelter's supervisor. She agreed that it was time for me to leave. Whatever remained would be cleaned up the next day by her staff.

Earlier, I would have balked at the idea of leaving anything behind for someone else to throw out. However, not this time. As I said my goodbyes and headed for the door, I felt my pockets for my keys and wallet.

Nothing!

Rushing back, afraid someone had taken them, I came upon a table covered with tools and knick-knacks. Hopelessly I scanned the pile. And, there they were, safe and sound. Grateful, I reached for them, only to stop suddenly. Something had occurred to me.

That I was alone, and could not leave a place in which I did not belong.

By this time, whatever light had remained was fading away in the corner of the room. Panicking, I darted for it, and curled up into a ball. Then the woman appeared beside me, bent over me, and whispered, "Someone is here to see you."

Although I refused to  look up, I felt a presence, besides the woman, watching me, smiling. 

"You know who this is, right?" gently asked the woman.

I did know him. Well, sort of. Even in that epiphany, my mind hesitated. Was it the man I was thinking of, or his brother? Yet, it did not matter. He drew closer, gathered me up in his arms, and held me.

And I surrendered. bursting into tears. 

Suddenly, it all went black. I had shot up in bed, wide awake, with watery eyes, breathing heavily. My clock read 4 am. 

I don't think I went back to sleep.